Goodness Gracious!
by Jacal Ste. Worme
Summary: Rogan. T&M-Rated, prompt-induced vignettes for the spicy, the naughty and the nice.
1. Bobby's Funeral

**AN:** Hello it's me again! I'll keep this light for this first post. Goodness Gracious would be a series of Rogan vignettes. Don't expect them to make sense, because there will be PWP. :p

Thanks to identityless for her prompts.

Happy reading! :D

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"I don't think it's appropriate, Rogue."

"Why?" the brunette asked, feigning surprise. Rogue felt like blushing under his heated gaze, but she ignored it. "Bobby said he always wanted to 'leave a mark' after he died." To drive her point home, she gave the cherry popsicle a lick. As she matted her tongue up the sweetened ice, deep inside she knew that her argument made no sense. And she liked it.

"He _was_ your ex-boyfriend, wasn't he?" Scott Summers asked, avoiding the way she devoured the frozen treat with much gusto. He visibly flinched when she made a slurping sound with her lips. He was clearly confused and distracted.

"Oh come on, _Professor_," Rogue said, rolling her eyes. It wasn't like she was going to disrespect him. "It's true! Bobby said he wanted his funeral to be fun and–"

"_No_, Rogue, you are not going to eat that during your eulogy!" Scott exclaimed, and stormed off the room.

Rogue pursed her lips to keep herself from laughing. Sometimes, Scott made it too easy.

"Tight ass."

_Don't squirm,_ Rogue told herself, and bent lower against the counter, making sure he saw just how much he was missing, standing there, and gave the popsicle another suck. _Look like you're not doing it on purpose._ She shot the only other mutant in the room an exasperated look and stared at the empty doorway where Scott left. "I know, right?"

Logan casually walked behind her and said, "Wasn't talkin' 'bout Scooter," and gave her leather-clad behind a hard slap before leaving the kitchen.

Rogue squeaked. "Sorry, Bobby," she mumbled mindlessly, and followed Logan back to his room, the cherry popsicle forgotten by the sink.

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Prompt: **Bobby's funeral, kitchen, leather**

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**AN:** Sorry to the Bobby lovers out there. This was written for fun, not for hate. Please review! ;)


	2. Geography

"Oh, oh, _oh_! There!" Marie moaned, her voice hard and harsh across his ears. "Yes, yes, _oooohhh_!" She shuddered violently when she came, squeezing her legs tight against his hand that was currently lodged between her legs.

Logan was panting as well, unable to focus on breathing with the way he watched her writhe on the chair beside him. His arm was happily squeezed in between her full breasts. Swallowing the thickness in his throat, he gave her engorged, wet clit one more flick with his middle finger. "So much for tutorin' you 'bout geography. This is sex-ed–"

"Shut up, sugar," Marie huffed, her left hand reaching between them and fumbled with his belt buckle. She bit her lower lip hard when his stiff length met her warm palm with a weepy pre-cum greeting. Giving him a firm grip, she smiled sheepishly at him and shut her legs tight against the hand still wedged in her panties. "Like that?"

Logan threw his head back in pleasure when she started to move her hand languidly up and down his length. "M-Marie…" A groan escaped his lips when her thumb rolled over that sensitive spot right under the engorged mushroom head of his swollen erection. "R-right there, Marie…"

"My kind of geography," Marie teased before quickening the pace of her hand.

_Gotta love these tutor sessions_, Logan thought, bucking his hips in rhythm with her hand.

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Prompt: **tutor, sex-education**


	3. Between the Lines

A few students shifted uncomfortably in their seats when Logan stormed in the room with a peeved yet sullen look on his face. The clawed mutant rarely entered the library, and when he did, it was because he was looking for Marie. Everyone in the mansion agreed that the young woman had the Wolverine by the leash, and if she wanted to play tea party, the feral would oblige with a growl and ask where the scones were kept -shall I pour you another cup, my dear lady?

"Why, Logan, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Marie asked casually, regarding the tall, rugged man who stood in front of her table. He looked clearly out of place with his unruly hair and usual lumberjack get-up. _Sexy_, she thought helplessly, eyeing the fine chest hairs peaking from his wife-beater. When he just glared at her, she ignored her lusty thoughts and returned her attention to the book she was trying to read. "Never mind. I'm busy. Go back to your cave." She checked her wristwatch. "I'll look for you in an hour."

Logan didn't leave though. He gave her a look of disappointment and frustration. "Marie, why didn't you tell me?"

Of course she knew what he was talking about. Her skin. The gloves were still on out of habit. But Marie wasn't in a mood to discuss anything, so she turned another page. When he tapped his foot, she snapped. "What!? It's not like I promised to touch you once I gained control-"

"Yeah, but I did."

Months of therapy? _Totally worth it_, Marie thought, letting Logan kiss her like there was no tomorrow. A moan left her lips when his hands slid under her blouse to cup her breasts. Her book hit the floor. "Oh, sugar..."

"SILENCE!" The two paused in their tryst when Hank's thunderous voice echoed around them. They heard him take a deep, exhausted exhale. "I suggest that both of you take your celebration in the private quarters of your bedroom."

Everyone in the library sighed in relief when Logan and Marie reemerged from the secluded study area from the back with eager looks on their faces. Hand in hand, they made their way out to rush to their bedroom, although everyone could hear them laughing to themselves, clearly amused with how they've been caught, or rather, how Hank fell right into their trap.

Once out of earshot, Beast sighed loudly one more time when he noted Rogue's gloved hands. He, for one, understood Logan and Marie's fascination with role-playing, but they should really just leave his library alone. "They are getting to be very good actors, those two..."

The rest of the students agreed quietly.

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Prompt: **library, promise, control**


End file.
